


Black Blood and Silver Soldiers

by DarkKushi



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-08-12 11:41:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7933270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkKushi/pseuds/DarkKushi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's difficult to wake up and knowing you're dead; you live with it. You back in the joy of you accomplishment to take down your best friend and you suffer in silence. But my suffering was too loud and he seemed to hear my cries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dead Don't Bleed

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. As you can see this my first Overwatch fiction ever and I'm trying to keep this as true to myself as I possibly can, headcanons will be in play but I'm willing to take suggestions and will see if they work with the story. The first chapters isn't that big, it's just a pilot to see if this specific style of writing will pick up. Please let me know what you think!

A loud bang.

_Run._

 

A sudden rise in the room temperature.

_Get Out._

Ringing in ear.

_Leave._

 

Heartbeat.

_Dead._

No.

Sounds, a voice. Female, sweet, gentle. Angela.

He tries to speak and fails. Tries to reach over to her but fails. Tires to see but is met with darkness.

“You’ll be fine! I pro-”

Silence.

 

xx

 

The scent that filled the room was distinct, it only existed here, or it should have. The smell of iodoform was gone, but how? That distinct smell of disinfectant was missing from the one place it should be and instead smelt of blood and smoke. The sound of people coughing came next, machines beeping and people. _What happened?_

_You blew it up._

Blackness again.

 

xx

 

A bright light that could blind someone filled the room, there was nothing to be seen besides a shining white light, or at least for the few seconds because slowly a silhouette appeared, an angel? No, Angela.

 

“You’re awake.” The angelic voice said but there was no response, just a failed attempt of trying to communicate. “It’s okay, you need to rest, I’m doing my best.” This would reassure anyone, hearing a doctor of the likes of Angela Zeigler would be confident in the process that was taking place. Though those who knew what those words meant were terrified.

 

Sore throat but no sore body. Something wasn’t right, there were no machines and no beeps, no wires and no nurses. _What happened?_

_You blew it up._

 

Angela was all that was in sight, everything else seemed to be suspended in nothing. _Limbo._ Perhaps death had come and taken what belonged to it and Angela was fighting a losing battle. Perhaps this was the end.

 

“Are you all right? How are you feeling?” The sweet voice asked and her hand came to feel for a fever, but there was no touch. Angela’s hand was right there but there was no feeling. “How… how are you doing that?” Were the words that followed her, she seemed confused and amazed – the way her eyes lit up when she was greeted with a new challenge but the way her brows furrowed with utter confusion, her lips were curled in a manner that no one probably ever saw; fear – _what am I?_

 

 

Hours seemed to have passed without being able to utter a word or feel another person’s touch. The ringing was still there as well as the taste of dirt. “An-Angela…” An unrecognisable voice; it was his. “What... Where am I?”

 

Angela looked up from where she sat and walked over to the figure on the bed. Her movements were slow and almost scared. “Gabriel…” As the doctor stood over her patient she looked over the scars she was unable to patch up. There were still beaten bruises all over his chest and legs and arms, some darker than others and most large enough to occupy the whole surface area. “I am so sorry. There was nothing I could do to get you out of this state.”

 

Angela crying was something Jack hated seeing. Jack. “What state? Where’s Morrison?” His memory was jogged but the reason why was fully intact in the man’s mind. Though the moment he sat up he realised something was clearly wrong, there was no weight to his body and now that he was coming back to his senses he noticed that the smell of smoke was still there, it was coming from him.

 

“What did you do to me?” Gabriel spoke out of visible anger and confusion. Looking over his body was all the man needed to know that things weren’t normal. There was a paleness over his skin, one that resembled that of a corpse, not to mention that there was smoke rising from his body, vanishing in the air. It wasn’t thick like those of the cigars he and Jesse smoked together, it was light and it faded quickly. Like a ghost. _There’s no such thing._ Maybe not before.

 

Gabriel got up from the stretcher and looked around for something to look at himself properly, a mirror, something. Though his feet weren’t on the ground, the layer of smoke, the lightness, it was his body, he was floating in the air. “Qué en cojones?” Spanish, his mother tongue, came out so fluidly that it scared him a little- Gabriel was never one to speak in his native language unless the opportunity called for it and this was certainly one of those that terrified him to the point he needed to speak Spanish.

 

“Gabriel… Jack is dead.” Angela said, her voice pained. The ghosting figure came undone and he fell on the ground with a loud thud, his body was still weak from the shock. “He’s dead and you’re… I’m so sorry I couldn’t save either of you.” As the blond spoke her voice hiccupped, and her breath hitched; Gabriel needed to get out of there.

 

After searching the man found his clothes and a large hoodie, quickly he dressed himself despite the way his body protested. There was a mirror in the corner, half of it was missing and there was a part of him that thought Angela brought this here just so he could see what became of him, of his body. The mirror was stained, covered in layers of dust that seemed to have been collecting over the days, maybe weeks. He saw half his body and between the scratches and missing pieces he managed to see what his face looked like at the moment. Still him. _But dead._

 

“You… You did this to me.” Gabriel spat angrily as he punched the mirror, watching it shatter against his fist. Expecting blood, he got nothing but smoke and a new scar. _The dead don’t bleed._ Not if they were like him. Stepping over the broken glass the man found his way out of the room, pulling the hood over his head and searching for a way out. Something that turned out to be much easier than he’d ever expect considering the commotion that was this place. Clearly it wasn’t the med bay, instead it was a medical tent built here. But where was here?

 

Stepping away from the space he turned back and saw something that sent a chill down his spine. The headquarters was in ruins; dust had collected over it making it seem as if there was a giant angry cloud above the facility. _Overwatch is dead. You killed it._

_Mission Complete._


	2. A Look At Death

For the next couple of hours there was no other though in the other’s head besides that that said his mission was complete. It was, but to what end? No one was supposed to have been there, just him, he wasn’t meant to hurt anyone, why were they there? His head spun, dizzy. He needed to rest.

Walking a couple more miles he found a rest shop, one of those that truckers stay at and luckily he had his wallet in his trousers. He reached for it and counted the money inside, it was good enough, he had his back account too but he didn’t want to use it, he’d withdraw all of it and make a new account but somewhere else, somewhere far. But for now, food.

As Gabriel walked inside he kept his head down so as to not scare anyone and once he was at the counter he paid for a bedroom and made sure that it was for a week as well as paying for all meals in advance, he didn’t want to have to come down to get food - this would have to do for now. He thanked the receptionist and had a feeling she blessed him when he walked away, he probably looked like the devil. Once he was in the room he made sure to tape the mirror up, he didn’t want to have to look at himself or be reminded of what he had done until it was completely necessary.

  
Soon after his first meal arrive, his brain had been working on overdrive to try and keep the thoughts of all he had done away and focusing on just the things he was doing and when he wasn’t busy he just counted.

But it didn’t go too well. _One, two three, dead. No. One two three four dead. No._

He was confused, almost scared but the knock on the door distracted him and he was about to open the door when he stopped himself. “Leave it on the floor, I’m in the bathroom.” A lie but it worked.

  
Once he was sure the other person had gone was when he opened the door and pulled the tray of food inside. It was nothing special, a turkey sandwich and a soda just to have something in his stomach. Though food tasted different now. Had he destroyed his tongue and throat? That would explain his voice and his taste.

  
This was traditional American stake according to the menu in the reception though to him it tasted more like dirt than anything else and that was definitely a bad sign. Gabriel would have to think about what he wanted to do with his life but now he needed to focus on eating without throwing up, which was almost impossible considering he still kept jumping through thought and in and out of that ghost form he now slipped into. What had he done? Who else had he injured? Was anyone alive?

  
_Yes, Angela_.

At least he knew someone was alive, and someone young, someone beautiful with so much to look forward to in her life. He hadn’t killed her. But the possibility that he had terrified and sacred her beautiful blue eyes with the figure he was now and with the sight of the watchpoint, their home.

  
_Diablo._

  
There had been voices since he had woken up and they had gotten louder as the time went by and as the realisation that no one he had once held dear would ever respect or trust him, he was doomed and condemned to a life of solitude.  
Once the man broke out of his own head he looked around and realised that it was already dark, he had been fighting with his consciousness for an incredibly long time now, the food was still here but it was cold though he was too hungry to put it away and so he ate. Slowly but he ate. After around an hour of struggling with cold and dirt-like tasting food the Hispanic man put everything to the side and laid down on the bed, buried his face in the pillow and screamed; loud and long but no one heard him, he was in the ghost form.

  
Xx

  
Jolting awake to the sound of a knock Gabriel looked around the room and noticed that the sunlight was now entering the room though the thin bathroom window. Sitting in shock he heard the faint words, “house keeping” and he was forced to grunt, “no.” Asshole. No, he was just scared.  
Sitting on the bed the tall man stared at the window in silence, trying to block away all and any thoughts that might pop into his head and the best way was for him to do so was to count the dust particles in that he could see flying through the air in the bathroom.

  
_One two three four murderer._

  
He couldn’t, whenever he tried to stop himself from thinking the worst that’s when it came to him again no matter how hard the man tried, there was no escaping this. A thought popped into mind a few moments later, perhaps it was a better way to spend the time as opposed to mentally torturing himself, he’d try to control the ghost form, but he’d need to see what he looked like and so he walked up to the mirror and removed the tape from around it. The sigh was still shocking and terrifying.  
His face was almost completely scared, his eyes now a mixture of the deep brown they were as well as being bloodshot, there were scars that went along his face, one diagonally across his eyes and his cheek. He could see his jaw, muscle and bone and it was disgusting, there was no way he could walk around looking like this.

  
_Monster_.

  
His mind was against him. Gabriel tried to ignore it though and continued to train himself to get into and out of the form as he wished, but the more he tried the more he noticed that t looked more like a wraith as opposed to a ghost – at first he could only get small parts of himself to transform, his hands one at a time and a foot occasionally. It wore him out.

  
Xx

  
Days went by just like this: waking up, forcing himself to eat, freaking out over what he had done to the point the wall was riddled with dents and small breaks because of the moments of frustration he went through, luckily it was one of the shadiest places in the world so no one would notice a few more dents in the wall.

  
Life was hell, looking at himself was hell and he needed to find something, a purpose or something that could at least give him some sense of direction and yet, there wasn’t much he could do for everything he had done to this point. He was a tactical ops leader, an infiltrator and in Blackwatch, an assassin. That was what Gabriel Reyes was good at. But where?

 _Talon_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am terribly sorry for the delay but it seems that life has caught up to me and decided that the best thing to do was to ruin my desire to write but I believe I'm back and this is what I have for you.


	3. Revelation and Invitation

It was probably weeks before he could bring himself to leave this room, but not after he ordered some clothes, he had none and it was the last of his money so the moment they arrived he changed, threw his old clothes in the trash before finally looking at himself in the broken mirror once again. He had purchased a long black coat, everything was black, shoes, trousers, gloves. People would be terrified of seeing him, even now that he was in a solid state.

 

_Necessitas irte._

And with that he took his leave, walking out of the motel room in the dead of night, it had been so long since he’d been outside that leaving with sunlight would just make things worse for him, not to mention the full black outfit he wore that would make him boil.

 

Walking outside felt somewhat surreal, people were living their normal lives, he saw cars on the freeway transporting families, lovers, a single person, just people doing normal things and not having to deal with the idea that they had ruined everything they once knew over jealousy and hatred over someone he had once considered his best friend. His only friend.

 

_Idiota._

After hours of walking, just before sunrise the man found himself outside what seemed to be a very beat up, old city, this was fine, he could probably find somewhere to crash for a while and soon enough he did. It was an old abandoned building, but apartment he broke in to was furnished, it seemed that the owned left it, abandoned it, which was great because there was canned food and money in some places. It belonged to drug dealers.

 

Being in an actual house was great because he could actually cook and not eat crappy motel food, not like his taste buds were any good anymore. His throat had collapsed and Angela’s handy worked had managed to make him able to breath but not do much more than that. Being here felt normal, he could at least pretend for a while. He made some beans and eggs that he found, he hadn’t ever been the best cook and it didn’t matter anymore as long as he fed himself, though he doubted he needed food at this point. No matter how much he fed himself he could feel his energy drain faster and faster, making him feel weaker. He needed to learn about his body better.

 

After some time of just sitting on the couch he had fallen asleep. But it wasn’t peaceful, it hadn’t ever been since he first regained his consciousness after the explosion. He could see everyone’s face, everyone that had been there on that day, he saw a lot of blood, all over, on his hands, it was his fault everyone he knew was probably dead. Morrison was dead. That wasn’t the plan. Not to murder. But it had happened and now it haunted him in his sleep. He could hear them all “ _you killed us. Left us for dead. You’re a disgrace._ ”

But it wasn’t until he saw Jack’s face, or at least what was left of it in front of him that Gabriel gasped for air and tried his hardest to grab on to something, but he couldn’t he was a spectre again, smoke. In anger, he let out a pained yell, he hated this, hated not having his body, not being able to control this properly.

 

Gabriel’s scream however lead to something unexpected or better, to someone unexpected. In through the open window dropped a woman, skin blue, hair navy and long, in heels with a sniper rifle the size of his leg.

Amélie.

 

There was no denying who this was, that face, those features were hers and her alone. “You’re alive…” He said softly, she had disappeared after the death of her husband, they assumed taken by Talon and killed but apparently, she hadn’t been, she was alive.

 

The look on the woman’s face broke the other though, she looked horrified, disgusted as if she were looking at a monster. He was a monster. “Gabriel?” She asked, her French accent still thick. “ _Mon deiu_.” She whispered, looking over him, walking slowly around. “Was this what happened? After _ze_ explosion?” She asked, curious.

 

Gabriel had anger in his eyes again, glowing red in this ghostly form. “ _Sí_.” He replied honestly, looking down at himself in equal disgust at what he had become. “Angela, she tried to save me… But This was what happened instead.” His explanation was shot, but by the looks of it she didn’t need more.

 

“Talon… It can take you in.” Amélie said, setting her rifle by her side, there was no need in using it now, not with him. “But first, I must know…. Was it you?” She asked, referring to nothing other than the large explosion in the swiss base. However, she wasn’t given a reply other than a grunt and Gabriel floating away from her into what appeared to be the kitchen. “You know... You’re very welcome, for _ze_ apartment… I cleared it out.”

 

“You mean you killed people.” Gabriel replied, looking at the sniper as he tried to bring himself back into his physical form, trying to keep the impulse to pounce on her at bay. “What… do I have to do?” Gabriel asked, voice rough and raspy because of the damage to his throat.

 

Amelie smirked and walked over, leaning over the kitchen counter and looking over him, “first, allow me to tell you what good will come to you. You will learn how to control _zis_.” She said and waved over the smoking figure. “ _Zey_ will learn about you, make equipment for you… Anything to make you feel more comfortable with your new self.”

 

Those words hit him hard, that was exactly what he needed, some control and to learn about this new body of his, he’d do anything at this point. But it was such as shift, from Blackwatch, saving the world, even if it came from negative means, to Talon where he would cause a lot of harm. But it wasn’t like he hadn’t by this point. “What do I have to do?” he asked, voice stern, wanting a definitive answer now, no matter what it took.

 

In truth, Amélie had been tracking Gabriel down since the explosion, they wanted him because they all suspected the truth behind the explosion, and if their suspicions were confirmed then they’d have an insane amount of work to do on their end, which meant an amazing pay check.

 

“Well… all you need to do is answer one simple questions.” The blue woman said, that dark glint in her eye still there, curiosity building in her.

 

“Was it you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm horrible at keeping schedules and I am so sorry T_T


End file.
